“Well,” Davery says, “I certainly didn’t see that coming.”
I eye Łizhin’s back, excitement starting to edge out my fear. It seems broad enough to hold me and her feathers look soft, but there’s one thing missing.
“I’m all for giant bird riding, but how can I stay on without a saddle?”
“Or a seat belt?” Mac asks. “We always buckle up for safety.”
Łizhin laughs. “Are you worried that, as we fly through the clouds hundreds of feet above the earth and you have nothing to hold on to but a handful of feathers, you might plummet to your deaths?”
“Yes,” we all say at once.
“Then I guess you’ll just have to hold on really tight!”
We hear the heralds coming before we see them. Great feathery bodies block the sun and the sound of what seems like hundreds of massive wings fills the air. The wind grows stronger, blowing us back so hard we have to dig our feet into the ground to keep from falling over. And above us, two birds appear, both as big as trucks. One blue, one yellow.
The bluebird lands first. The plumage on its back and wings is the brilliant hue of a perfect summer sky, and its belly is a grayish white.
“Yá’át’ééh,” it says, its voice a deep rumble. “I am Dólii, the herald of Tsoodził, the Mountain of the Day, the southernmost sacred mountain and the home of the Turquoise Guardians and the Bluebird Heralds.” It turns its head to Łizhin. “I heard your call, sister, so I came. How may I help?”
“Dólii, my brother,” Łizhin says, “this child, called Mac, is a descendant of one of the Hero Twins. You must take him to Turquoise Boy so he may collect the gift he needs to offer Spider Woman. The tiny cheii will accompany you.”
Dólii bows his head to Mac. “I would be honored to take you to my mountain so you can meet my guardian and request your boon.” He drops down until his belly rests against the snow. “Climb on my back, child called Mac and tiny cheii, and we will be off!”
Mac gives me big eyes. I know that expression. Those are his chili-cheese-dog-on-the-roller-coaster vomit eyes.
“You’ll be okay, Mac,” I say firmly. “You can do this. Just think about reuniting with Dad.”
“What if there’s a test?” he asks morosely as he climbs on Dólii’s back. “What if I’m not tough enough to do it by myself ?”
“You can do it,” I repeat, reminding myself of my basketball coach. Okay, Coach doesn’t always have the most original sayings, but I try to make it sound reassuring anyway. “Besides, you’ll have Mr. Yazzie to help you.” I hand the horned toad up to him, and he tucks him into the neck of his own black hoodie. “He’ll make sure you get the turquoise.”
Mac nods and puts his brave face on.
“We will meet at the top of the Spider Rock in Canyon de Chelly,” Łizhin says to Dólii.
“I will see you there no later than sunrise tomorrow,” Dólii says before he gathers his great body and launches himself into the air. I think I hear Mac screaming. Or maybe that’s just the wind. Hard to tell.
The second herald, who has been waiting patiently for Dólii to leave, lands in the spot the other bird vacated.
“Yá’át’ééh,” it says in a soft laughing voice that sounds like clear water running in a rocky stream. “I am Tsídii, the herald of Dook’o’oosłiid, the Mountain of the Afternoon, the westernmost sacred mountain and the home of the Yellow Corn Guardians and the Yellow Warbler Heralds.” It turns its head to Łizhin. “You rang?”
“Yes, sister.” Łizhin introduces Davery and explains his mission, and Tsídii lowers her body to let Davery climb on her back.
“I guess I’ll see you at Spider Rock,” I tell him, feeling suddenly extra anxious, like maybe I won’t see him again.
“Don’t worry about me, Nizhoni,” he says, guessing what I’m thinking. “I’ve never ridden on a bird’s back before, so this should be fun!”
Did I mention that Davery is the best?
I watch as Tsídii flaps her great wings and takes to the air. This time I’m sure I hear screaming.
“Well, Nizhoni,” Łizhin says, “are you ready to go to the Black Mountain?”
Now that the two of us are alone, I can tell her the truth. “I think there’s been a mistake,” I say. “I know what Mr. Yazzie said, about me being related to the original Monsterslayer and how I’m supposed to be the backup guardian of Dibé Nitsaa and everything. But, and this is hard for me to admit”—I take a deep breath—“I’m no hero.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for Łizhin to laugh at me. When I don’t hear anything, I open one eye enough to peek. She’s standing in the same place, waiting patiently.
“Uh, did you hear me?” I ask. “Zero hero material over here. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m a loser, but I’m not exactly a winner, if you know what I mean. So maybe you should try someone else.”
“I think I’ve got exactly the right person,” Łizhin says. “Why don’t you just pretend you’re a hero for a while, and let me carry the burden of believing in you?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s scary to have people expect something from you. Sometimes it’s so scary we want to run away or give up.”
I nod my head vigorously. “Bingo,” I whisper under my breath.
“So don’t worry about what you’re supposed to be. Just be who you are.”
“Just…Nizhoni Begay?”
“Exactly.”
“But what if that’s not enough?”
“Who you are is always enough. Now, climb on and we’ll go for a ride. I want to show you my beautiful mountain.”
I clamber onto Łizhin’s back, digging my hands into her thick layer of feathers. “I’m ready!” I shout.
“Then hang on tight!” she says as she takes to the air.
I do as she says, pressing my face against the soft down on her neck and squeezing my eyes shut. My stomach flutters and dips as the earth goes out from under me. But I am proud to say I do not scream. Not even once.
Łizhin had said her mountain would be beautiful, but as we descend toward it, I’m not so sure. Rocky black peaks jut up through the clouds like sharp claws, and when we get lower, everything is shrouded in a dark gray fog so thick and heavy I can’t see through it.
“We’re going to land here?” I ask with a gulp.
“We must,” Łizhin says.
The air turns icy, even colder than on the snowy mountain we left behind. Or maybe it’s a different kind of cold. This chill doesn’t remind me of hot cocoa and Christmas presents and sledding—it feels alive, like it could eat my flesh and gnaw on my bones with its frozen teeth. I huddle closer to Łizhin’s back, whimpering quietly.
The currents grow stronger, buffeting us violently, and for a minute, I think I’m going to fall off.
“The wind is trying to throw us against the rocks!” I shout over the howl of the gale.